Chapter Text
At the young age of four, Izuku learned that the world is not all black and white. There are people who are dark and evil, who lie and cheat their way to victory. And there are others who are kind and thoughtful, who bring happiness and color to a grayscale world.
But the lines are blurred and thin.
“Stop!” He shrieks, moving in front of the boy Katsuki is hitting. “Kacchan, you’re hurting him!”
Katsuki laughs. “Hurting him? He deserves it! He’s a lowlife freak!” He yells.
“I—I won’t let you! You’ll have to fight me first!” Izuku holds up his shaky fists, the sun beating down on his back. But it feels more like it’s raining, like a hard shower is pressing against his neck.
“You think you can play hero, Deku? ” Izuku gasps at the cruel nickname, and soon there’s fists flying at his body. He grunts as one hits him in the side, another uppercutting his chin. “You’re nothing but a quirkless loser! You’re worse than him!”
“Kacchan, stop! You’re being a villain!” Katsuki stops, and so do his friends.
“…What did you just say to me?” The four year old blonde boy stares at the boy in front of him, the boy that was once his friend. Izuku coughs up blood as he lays on the floor.
“You’re a villain.” Izuku says. He sees Katsuki’s fists clench, and he doesn’t even have the strength to hold up his hands as an explosion hits his face, knocking him straight out.
It is raining when he wakes up, sitting up on the floor and groaning as he feels the pain of his joints moving. There’s nobody in the park anymore.
He once thought Katsuki was the greatest hero. The one that would be able to save everyone one day. But turns out, Katsuki is just a bully.
A really mean bully.
Izuku gets up, his legs wobbling as he clutches onto a nearby pole. He can feel the water seeping through his clothes, and his hair hangs wet in front of his eyes.
He’s known he’s quirkless for months. But he didn’t think Katsuki would be so mean about it. All their lives, they’d played ‘Hero’ together, and Katsuki was All Might and Izuku was Endeavour (because Katsuki has to be All Might). And then Katsuki manifested his quirk. And he said Izuku would get his soon.
He didn’t get one. He’s quirkless. He’ll never be a hero and he’ll never have the chance to become anything other than a stupid quirkless loser . Even his mom knows it.
He can feel the tears fall down his face before a sob even makes its way out his throat. His throat is sore itself, and he feels like his body is breaking down as he clutches his face, sobbing and crying and coughing in his hands.
Deku. The nickname and its meaning rings out in his head. He’s useless. He can’t even fight back. He’s an idiot and he’s worthless and he’s quirkless.
He starts treading out of the park, rainwater filling his shoes and mud caking them. He hates feeling weak, but how can he not feel this way? He’s quirkless.
He leans against the fence, sobs rocking his body once more. He can’t stop them. He wants–he needs his mom. He needs her to hold him and tell him it’s all okay. He needs her to tell him he can still be a hero.
But the night she found him crying, the night he found out he was quirkless, the night he asked her if he could still be a hero, she just cried with him, sharing his pain. But she didn’t share his pain. She has a quirk. She’s been blessed. Izuku hasn’t.
The thought makes his body shake even more, and he wonders for a second if he is going to die here, in this park. Any villain can find him, and he almost wants them to. He wants to show Kacchan that what he did was wrong.
He forces himself to walk forward, to push past whatever fatigue has come over him. He feels like crying again, but his tears are spent, and they will not come forth anymore.
The scent of cinnamon hits his nose as he walks past a bakery. If his mother was here–if this was any other day, if he had not just been beaten up by his best friend, he would’ve tugged on her arm, begging for her to scrape up some leftover cash to hand over to the clerk to get him something. He loves baked goods.
As he stumbles down the streets, using the uneven gaps between the bricks to hold onto them for support. The ache in his leg is more apparent now, and he can feel a shot of pain hit him through his lower leg, his foot almost twisting below him.
Come on. Make it to the curry. The scent is beckoning him over. Curry. Kacchan’s mom makes curry. Good curry.
It feels like home. It silently calls him over, and he stares up at the sign. Kay’s Curry. He almost falls as he gets to the door, and a woman turns, staring down at him. “What are you doing out this late?” She asks.
He looks up at her. “I–I’m just going home.” The rain gets heavier, and he instinctively moves underneath the cover. Thunder rumbles in the distance as the patter of rain against the cover above him fills his ears. He jumps at the sight of lightning in the corner of his eye and looks away.
“Where’s your mom?” The woman asks, kneeling down.
“She–she’s at home. I was out with my friends.” He says. “B-but I know the way.” He doesn’t want to trouble this woman–she seemed like she was in a rush when she ran out of the store. “I’ll be there soon.”
The woman nods slowly. “Alright, kid. Get back safely.” Izuku nods and she walks away.
He sighs, turning into the alleyway next to the store. The rain drips down a pipe next to him, and he feels droplets fall onto his head in a rhythm.
Drop, drop…drop, drop.
He slumps down. Maybe the cold can take him. Maybe the cold can kill him and he can go home in eternal sleep.
A noise beside him makes him jump, and he scrambles to his feet as a boy walks down. The boy pauses as he stares at Izuku, and a dry, raspy voice comes from his throat. “Hello.”
“Hi.” Izuku responds, his voice shaky.
“...Who are you?” The boy comes into the small light that the apartment next to the alley emits, and Izuku gasps quietly. The boy’s skin looks ripped, his lips chapped and hands holding onto him in different places. His eyes are wide and bloodshot, dark hair falling down his back in long, shaggy locks.
Izuku swallows the lump in his throat. “Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku.”
“Midoriya…” The boy steps forward and Izuku fights the urge to step back. He doesn’t want to treat the boy differently, but he’s really freaking Izuku out. “I’ve heard of you before…”
“You have?” Izuku asks, the boy’s words piquing his interest.
“Yes. I’m here for you.” Izuku’s eyes narrow and he stares at the boy, trying to decipher what that means. “I’m here to take you to my master. He’s been waiting for you.”
Izuku looks over the boy, trying to work out what he wants with him. Or, who he might work for. Is it a villain? Is Izuku falling into a trap. “Don’t be scared. He’s a good person.” It’s almost like the boy can sense Izuku’s fear. “I’m Ten–Tomura. Shigaraki Tomura.”
The boy smiles, and the look seems foreign. “Please. It’s warm and dry?”
Izuku’s head moves up and down before he can protest, and he can feel the boy’s hand around his arm, one finger kept off of Izuku’s bare and damp skin.
“Where’s your mother?” Tomura asks.
“At home. I–I don’t know my way back.” The tears have come back. “I’m scared.”
“We all are.” Tomura says, “Humans are always scared, if they are good or bad. We aren’t always strong, but weakness is sometimes a strength. Letting yourself be weak is a way of learning to live in this strangled world.”
Izuku isn’t sure why or how he understands Tomura, but he’s waiting for the point. And it never comes. He guesses it’s about how life pushes you down no matter what, which is something that Izuku has never had to worry about since he’s just a kid.
For once, Izuku doesn’t want to grow up. He wants to snuggle up in his covers and say goodnight to his mother.
They arrive at what seems to be a house, at first glance. But, it looks more like a bar inside. Izuku’s only been inside a bar once before, and that was just leading into the restaurant he and his mother went into.
He had katsudon. He loves katsudon.
“You’ll see the master soon. For now, we must sleep.” Tomura pulls Izuku up the broken, wooden stairs through a doorway. The lights in the bar are out, and it’s almost pitch black. The only indicator of where Izuku has been brought to is a small lantern on the side of the counter, the glasses around it reflecting the light.
The bar moves out of his view and a door opens at the top of the stairs. It reveals a concrete, gray room, the only two things in it being metal beds, illuminated by the broken windows held together by tape. The beds are pushed against the back, and there’s a smashed, small light hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room.
Izuku walks over to the beds with Tomura, and the latter takes the one on the left. Izuku lays on the one on the right, curling up into a fetal position as he pulls the covers over him. Maybe, in the morning, he will be woken up by his mother. She’ll apologize for not going to look for him in the night and hold him close to her. He’ll be told he can become a hero, even if he is quirkless. And he’ll watch the video of All Might defeating the villain again.
He will become a hero.
But what Izuku doesn’t know is that the last time his mother will ever wake him up was that morning. He will never be tucked in by his mother again. The last time he will ever watch the video was earlier that day, before he went out to the park with Katsuki and his friends.
And he will never become a hero.